By Any Other Name
by The Crownless Queen
Summary: A collection of Romione drabbles. 2-Take My Breath Away: Not all soulmate stories end happily. 3-Drunken Confessions: Ron is drunk and likes-like Hermione, who, thankfully, likes-like him back. 4-you and me, babe, we'll be fabulous: There's only one bed. 5-Best of Intentions: Ron meets Harry, Hermione's brother. 6-Home: Ron comes home after a week away to find the houseplants dead.
1. Morning Proposal

Written for the OTP War Event at Hogwarts, using the prompt: (Dialogue) "Will you marry me?" / "Maybe if you learn how to do the dishes without being asked."

 _Word count:_ 571

 **Morning Proposal**

The thing was, Ron had never really learned to speak without putting his foot in his mouth. It was something everyone had always told him would get him into trouble—from his mother and his ever so helpful siblings, who never missed an opportunity to tease him to his friends who always laughed at his confusion whenever he said something wrong.

Which was why, when Hermione set down breakfast in front of him that morning, Ron's first instinct as he practically breathed it in (and seriously, ever since Hermione had decided that they all need to take cooking lessons from his mother in case of 'another impromptu camping trip', she had become something of a goddess in the kitchen) was to moan his appreciation around his mouthful.

"Sweet Merlin, Hermione, will you marry me?" The words left his mouth almost without his notice, and he was so thankful he had already mostly swallowed what he had in his mouth because from the way he started choking, things would have been unpleasant otherwise. Still, he grabbed at the glass of pumpkin juice in front of him almost desperately as he tried to wash away the sudden dryness of his throat.

"Maybe if you learned how to do the dishes without being asked," Hermione replied without missing a beat, rolling her eyes.

Ron rolled his eyes right back. "Are you a witch or not?"

"And what does that have to do with you taking some of the responsibilities around this house?" Hermione asked, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Err, nothing at all?" Ron replied sheepishly. "In fact, I love you very much and I'll do the dishes for the rest of the week?"

Hermione snorted, but her eyes were fond. She leaned in for a quick kiss before turning back to her own breakfast. "I love you too. And it's a deal, though we both know you'll have forgotten by tomorrow."

"I would never!" Ron protested, before he actually considered it. "Well, I'll try to remember it anyway," he corrected himself sheepishly.

Hermione smiled at him lovingly. "I'm sure you will."

It occurred to him then, that his proposal hadn't been said as a joke. Or well, not entirely as a joke—not like the dozens of other times he had somewhat accidentally proposed to his girlfriend when she was being particularly amazing (which, considering this was _Hermione_ , was pretty much always) or Merin forbid, the handful of times he had said the same thing to _Harry_ , who never failed to make the most hilarious faces when Ginny said "Nope, this one's taken already".

"Say, Hermione, what do you think about getting married?"

"Why, are you proposing?" Hermione asked teasingly.

"And if I am?" Ron replied, feeling braver by the minute.

Hermione hummed in consideration, but Ron could see she was pleased from the happy sparkle in her eyes and the way her lips kept twitching up. "Aren't you supposed to offer me a ring or something?" she asked with a smile.

"Well, I figure I'd ask first so I'd know if I actually needed to buy the ring. You see, the girl I like is really into being practical and all…" He winked, and Hermione laughed.

She grabbed his hand and looked him straight in the eyes. "Well then I guess you have a ring to buy."

She smiled, and Ron smiled back. He was certain he had never felt happier.


	2. Take My Breath Away

Written for Hogwarts' OTP War: (AU) Soulmate AU with a sad ending.

 _Word count:_ 1297

 **Take My Breath Away**

Everyone had a soulmate, and everyone had some sort of distinctive reaction to their soulmates. According to Ron's mother, those were the only truths in this world, and having seen how happy she and his father were, Ron had to agree.

He just wished he knew what his own soulmark was. They differed from person to person, with the most commons being an altered sight until you met your other half (or halves, in some rarer cases) or having a tattoo that was supposed to identify your soulmate.

Ron had none of those, but he wasn't truly worried. Plenty of people had more discreet marks—marks that only were visible upon meeting your soulmate, for example, or upon touching them—and though Ron would have loved to be able to brag about knowing what his first words to his soulmate would be, or what their name were in the same way his siblings could, he could wait.

He just hoped he wouldn't have to wait forever.

Ron met Hermione on a hot summer day when he ducked inside an old bookstore to escape the heat. Hermione had been at the counter, helping this little old lady with her purchases, and when she had smiled something in Ron's chest had simply unraveled and he had _known_ she was the one.

"Go get her, tiger," the old lady said, patting Ron's arm surprisingly strongly on her way out of the shop. Ron blushed terribly, but he was too entranced by Hermione to do anything but obey.

"Hi," Ron said a little breathlessly as he walked up to Hermione. The shop was empty and the atmosphere suddenly felt different, like the air was too thin to breathe properly. It felt magical, and just right.

"Hi," Hermione replied in much the same tone, though she had also been wearing an amused smirk. "I'm Hermione. What can I do for you today?"

"I know," Ron blurted out stupidly, and when Hermione's eyes just widened in surprise, he added quickly, "I mean, it's on your nametag, I wasn't like, stalking you or anything, this is definitely the first time we meet, I'd have remembered _you_ -" _wow, smooth going Ronald_ , "I just, err, can I get your number? I'm Ronald-I mean Ron, my mother's the only one who calls me Ronald, and she does it when she's mad so…" _Shut up now please,_ he chanted in his mind, and finally—thankfully—he managed to stop talking.

To his delight, Hermione's smile only widened as she laughed. It sounded like bells, ringing in the clear morning air, and Ron fell a little bit in love. It felt ridiculous, to already be this attached to a stranger he had known for all of maybe five minutes, and yet it also felt terribly right.

"Sure, Ron, you can get my number," Hermione replied laughingly, but not unkindly, as she wrote it down for him. "Call me?"

"Ah yes, I'll do that, sure," Ron babbled as he took the piece of paper from her. Their fingers grazed and a spark of something like electricity shot up Ron's arm.

He left quickly after that—Hermione's boss came to see what was happening, and though the prickly woman seemed fond of her employee, that fondness clearly didn't extend to Ron himself if he wasn't about to be a customer—almost tripping on his own feet in his hurry.

Hermione's quiet laughter at that sight stayed with him for the rest of the day.

After that, things went by quickly. They texted for days before they managed to arrange a date, and one date turned into two which turned into five which turned into… Well, a lot of dates. It felt like they were going too fast, like they were just a little reckless, but Ron couldn't stop, and it was clear Hermione couldn't either.

"You're different around her," his mother had noted somewhat worriedly after she had met Hermione.

"How so?" Ron had asked through a mouthful of his breakfast.

"Just different, I guess," his mother had shrugged. "Be careful, okay?"

Ron had rolled his eyes, but nodded, and despite his best efforts to forgot those words, hey had stayed with him. They reminded him of those terrible stories no one quite dared to talk about, the ones about the soulbonds that went wrong.

Neither he nor Hermione had a mark yet, you see, even though Ron felt pretty sure they were, in fact, soulmates. And maybe that was nothing to worry about, but some part of Ron couldn't just let it go, couldn't stop thinking about the stories of people who only knew their soulmates' last words and grew up thinking they'd be their firsts only to be proven wrong in the most terrible of ways…

 _(the other stories didn't bear thinking about)_

So, one evening, on their date, he asked Hermione about it.

"Do you think we might be soulmates?"

Hermione startled. "Soulmates? Why?"

Ron shrugged in a carefully nonchalant gesture. "I don't know. It feels right?"

Hermione hummed for a moment, eyes turned to the sky. "I guess so." She took Ron's hand in hers, turned it over and caressed the palm of his hand softly. "Maybe," she added with a smile, and helplessly, Ron smiled back.

He kissed her then, just a chaste press of the lips that quickly turned into something deeper, something stronger. Ron's heart beat so strongly in his chest that he could feel it echo in his ears, and he felt like he could fly and never come down. Naturally, that's when it all went wrong.

Ron felt so weak when their lips finally parted that for a moment nothing really registered. The only sound he could hear was the beat of his own heart, deafening against the cloudy silence of the rest of the world. Even opening his eyes—God, when had he even closed them?—seemed to be too hard of a task to undertake right now.

He got his breathing back under control, eventually, as did Hermione. Clever, _brilliant_ Hermione, who was already crying because she had figured out what Ron's mind was still shying away from: that they were indeed soulmates, but that they were Cursed.

Their bond was one of those terrible ones, one of those people never talked about in anything but whispers, and never in polite company.

Ron's stomach twisted.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Hermione repeated as she cried, but even in her grief she wouldn't let Ron hold her now. "I think," she said, already braver than Ron could ever be, "that we shouldn't see each other anymore."

She left after that, still crying, but her head was held high, and Ron hadn't thought he could love her more than he already did, and yet here he was, loving her just a tiny bit more as she broke their hearts and saved their lives.

He didn't even realize he had been crying until he reached home and found his mother waiting for him.

"Oh no, what's wrong?" she asked immediately, wrapping him into a hug that for once, Ron didn't have the heart to refuse.

"She took my breath away," he confessed. "Mum, she _took my breath away_ ," he repeated in despair, and finally the horror of it settled in.

The whole story came out after that, and his mother only held him tighter.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered in his hair.

"I love her," he keened. "I love her, it's not fair, why is this happening to us?"

"I know," his mother said. "I know and I'm sorry," she said, and eventually he stopped crying. It didn't make him feel any better—didn't make him feel any less heartbroken—but it was something.

Right now, it was everything.


	3. Drunken Confessions

Written for the Hogwarts' OTP War: (dialogue) "The stars are so pretty. You know what else is pretty?".

 _Word count_ : 627

 **Drunken Confessions**

"The stars are so pretty. You know what else is pretty? You. You're so pretty, Hermione, it's not fair. You're like, like the sun but not the sun, cause the sun, is, you know, blinding and you're not, you're just, like, sparkly and so, so pretty, and you smell like books and I don't even like books, you know, but you smell like books and I _love it_ and…" Ron rambled on, and Hermione couldn't help but smile and laugh a little even as her hart started beating faster.

"You're drunk, Ron," she said, rolling her eyes as she took his glass away from him. She sniffed it experimentally and immediately recoiled. "God, what even is in that stuff?"

Ron giggled and made a playful grab for his glass. "Fun stuff," he drawled, wiggling his eyebrows. "And I'm not, not drunk," he added drunkenly, as if it was an afterthought.

"Of course not," Hermione replied dryly. "I can smell how sober you are from here."

She shouldn't have said that. She realized it the moment Ron's eyes widened dramatically. "So you smell me _too_?! I knew you liked me!" he said, immediately going for an uncoordinated hug that made her slosh his alcohol all over her hand.

"I-err-I," she stammered eloquently, blushing, she was sure, terribly.

Ron immediately withdrew, looking devastated. "You don't like me, do you?"

He looked like he was about to cry—God, what has she done to deserve getting stuck with the man she had had a crush on for the last five years when he was drunk and rambling about _her_ of all things (where was Harry when you needed him? At least _he_ would never put her in those kind of situations)—and Hermione had to fix it.

"Of course I do," she confessed. "Of course I like you," she repeated.

"But you don't like-like me," he said mournfully.

Despite herself, Hermione laughed even as her heart skipped a beat. "Like-like? What are we, twelve?"

Ron pouted. "Well, I like-like you, Hermione, so there," he replied, sticking out his tongue.

"I like-like you too, Ron," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes fondly.

"Really?"

"Really," she confirmed.

"Wow," Ro breathed out. He looked stunned, and it took all Hermione had not to laugh again. She had a feeling if she started now she wouldn't stop, not with the elation bubbling in her chest.

"Kiss me?" Ron blurted out, already leaning forward.

For a moment—a terribly tempting moment—Hermione considered it, but in the end reason won out. "Not when you're this drunk," she replied. "Not when there's a chance you won't remember this in the morning."

"I could never forget you," Ron breathed out with a silly smile.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stop smiling. "And I might believe you if you weren't so drunk. Now come one, I think it's time you got back home. We'll talk about this in the morning, okay?"

Ron pouted, but when she started walking to her car he followed.

She didn't stop smiling until she fell asleep, back in her own home. When she woke up, she had two unread messages from Ron.

The first one was stamped 3:45 am, ten minutes after she had dropped him off, and read: _'How abut a date, u &me&coffee?'_

The second was what had woken her up. _'I mean it,_ ' it read. _'Sorry about the drunkenness, but how about I drop by around four? I seem to remember someone promising a kiss if I was sober *wink wink*'_

Smiling, Hermione typed back quickly. _'I never promised anything… But it's a date.'_

' _Awesome. See you then.'_

' _See you then,'_ Hermione replied. Her smile was so wide it felt like it was splitting her face in half.


	4. you and me, babe, we'll be fabulous

Written for the Hogwarts' OTP War: (Trope) "Friends" having to share a bed.

 _Word count:_ 813

 **you and me, babe, we'll be fabulous**

"There's only one bed," Hermione noted out loud with some discomfiture. It was a big bed, granted, but still. It was just one bed. _I didn't sign up for this_ , she thought with some panic as she watched Ron practically collapse on the bed, dropping his bag by the left side.

"What's the matter? It's not like it's the first time we share, you know," Ron said. "Besides, they said this was the only room left, and I don't know about you, but I don't really feel like trying for another hotel right now."

As she sat down next to him gingerly, Hermione nodded absently. "I suppose you're right," she sighed, biting her lips. Drifting, her eyes found Ron. He had his eyes closed, and he looked so relaxed and peaceful like this—so _handsome_ —that Hermione's heart twanged in her chest.

She should be used to these feelings by now, and yet they always seemed to be able to take her by surprise.

Hermione had been half in love with Ron Weasley for what felt like most of her life—which, considering how long they had known each other, wasn't that far from the truth—and nothing felt more devastating than to know her love wasn't requited.

Still, it meant she was unable to resist him for anything, so when he had asked for company on his road trip, Hermione had told him that she didn't have anything better to do. It wasn't exactly a lie, per se, but considering the knowing looks Harry and Ginny had sent her when she had answered much too quickly, her crush wasn't as discreet as she thought it was.

"You're staring," Ron said, and his voice dragged her out of her musing suddenly.

"I'm not," Hermione lied, fighting to control the rise of her blush and avoiding his eyes.

"I'm sure," Ron smirked, before standing up. What he was doing didn't register until he had taken off his shoes and shirt and was unbuttoning his pants, and Hermione squealed as she whirled around.

"You do realize this is nothing you haven't seen before, right?" Ron said teasingly. "I mean, we did spend a week at the beach together."

Hermione wasn't sure where Ron had found this confidence, but she wasn't sure she liked it very much (it was a lie: she loved it).

"Well, this is different," she stated mulishly.

"How so?"

"Well, we've never slept together before," Hermione blurted out, immediately wishing the ground could swallow her up. This was why she usually didn't leave her books.

Ron laughed. "Relax, Hermione, your virtue is safe with me. But if it bothers you that much, I can always sleep on the ground," he added kindly.

"Of course not! If anyone has to sleep on the ground, it should be me! For God's sakes, you just spent the whole day driving, you deserve a proper rest," she replied, incensed.

Ron rolled his eyes. "I'm not letting you sleep on the ground, Hermione. My family would never forgive me—can you imagine what Mum would say if she found out?"

Hermione shivered. She loved Molly, but Ron was right. He'd never hear the end of it if Hermione slept on the ground and he in the bad. "I guess we could share then," she sighed, steeling herself.

"Great. Now I'm going to take a shower, so pick a side in the meantime?"

Hermione didn't mean to, but she fell asleep as she waited for Ron to return from the bathroom. She didn't notice the awfully fond smile he wore on his lips when he stumbled out of the bathroom, skin still wet in places, and saw her half undressed and sprawled on the right side of the bed.

She didn't notice the way he tucked her in and softly brushed her hair out of her face before sighing deeply. She didn't hear the way he said her name, or the heartbreaking "I wish," that left his lips just before he turned off the lights and joined her in sleep.

She did notice this though: when she woke up, she was warm and pressed against a body that seemed to support her perfectly, and Ron's hair was nuzzled against her neck. It was heaven, and it was hell, and she didn't want to leave this moment ever again.

But eventually, Ron's breathing pattern changed, and he drew back a little.

"Hi," Hermione said, suddenly at a loss for words.

"Hi," Ron replied, voice sounding rough with sleep.

She wanted to kiss him then, more than she had ever wanted to before. He looked… there weren't words for the way he looked at her right then, and so, with courage Hermione didn't think she'd ever have, she leaned in and closed the few inches between their faces.

And Ron kissed her back.


	5. Best of Intentions

Written for Hogwarts' OTP War: (Scenario) Meeting a protective older sibling/parent for the first time.

Set in an AU where the Grangers adopted Harry.

 _Word count:_ 453

 **Best of Intentions**

"So, what are your intentions toward my little sister?" Harry asked Ron with his best threatening voice and glare—they were the ones he had shamelessly stolen off his high school chemistry teacher, and though he couldn't pull it off early as well as the man had been able to, Harry's version was nothing to scoff at.

"Oh my god, Harry, no!" Hermione moaned, dropping her head in her hands. She was using her 'why must you always embarrass me' voice rather than her 'Harry James Potter stop what you are doing right now or I will murder you where you stand' voice, so Harry assumed she wasn't actually that angry.

"Harry, yes," Harry countered, sticking his tongue out at Hermione. "I'm your big brother, it's my duty to threaten your boyfriends and find out if they're good enough for you."

"Harry, we've been through this a million time, you're _younger_ than me, you can't be my _big brother_ ," Hermione sighed.

"Uh uh, I won big brother rights fair and square eight years ago, remember?"

"There was nothing fair and square about that chess game, Harry, you _cheater_!"

Harry gasped dramatically, putting a hand over his heart in mock-hurt. "Hermione, I would never cheat! How dare you accuse me of such, such…"

"Yes, how dare I profess such unfounded accusations," Hermione said dryly, eyebrow raised sarcastically. "Woe is me."

Harry scoffed. " _Anyway_ , that wasn't the point," he replied, changing the subject more or less smoothly. "The point was that you have a new boyfriend, and it's my job to make sure he knows just what awaits him if he doesn't treat you right."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "First of all, Ron is hardly my 'new boyfriend', we've been together for months, and it's not my fault you weren't around to meet him before. And second of all, what is this, the 19th century? I can handle myself, I don't need you defending me."

"If it helps, your father already gave me the shovel talk?" Ron pipped up awkwardly.

"It does actually," Harry replied with a smirk even as Hermione rounded up on Ron, "He did WHAT?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "It was fine, Hermione, really. It just shows he cares—besides, God knows we've put my sister's boyfriends through worse."

Hermione laughed, and Ron smiled back fondly. _Well, that's not fair_ , Harry thought. How was he supposed to do anything when Ron looked at his sister _like that?_

"I still don't like you," Harry mumbled, crossing his arms and glaring at Ron, but his lips kept twitching up.

"He's lying," Hermione mock-whispered at Ron, and Harry glared at her too.

Ugh, siblings. Can't live with them, can't live without them.


	6. Home

Written for Hogwarts' OTP War: (Dialogue) "Stop killing all the houseplants, you utter garden mole!".

 _Word count:_ 350

 **Home**

"Stop killing all the houseplants, you utter garden mole! The were a gift from my mother, she'll take it badly," Ron bemoaned as he saw the dried-out plants that, a mere week ago, had seemed radiant with life.

"Did you just call me a garden mole? What does that even mean?" Hermione's voice came from the living-room, and Ron flowed it, a fond smile on his lips even as he retorted loudly and passionately.

"It means that you're killing all of our plants and that I have no idea how you ever managed to pass Herbology if this is what happens when someone gives you responsibility for a living being. Honestly, Hermione, how hard is it to remember to water them once in a while?"

"Well I was busy, if you must know. I had-I had things to do," Hermione frowned, setting down her book to cross her arms as she glared up at Ron.

"Hermione, I know you, and I know this means you spent so much time in your books you forgot the outside world, _again_."

"That only happened, like, _once_ ," Hermione denied quickly, but the light blush on her cheeks told Ron he wasn't far from the truth.

"Once every other week, maybe," Ron teased, wrapping his arms around her waist and dropping his chin on her shoulder as he tucked himself on the sofa next to his wife. "Don't forget, _I know you_."

He dropped a wet kiss of her right cheek and laughed when Hermione squirmed and made a face of mock-disgust.

"Ugh, why did I marry you again?"

"Because you _love_ me," Ron singsonged.

"Merlin help me, but I do," Hermione replied, but she was smiling and her eyes were fond.

"So… Does that mean that you'll remember to water the plants?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That means shut up and kiss me, I haven't seen you in a week and I missed you."

"Well, when you say it like that…"

"Ronald," Hermione growled.

"Yes dear?"

"Kiss me. Now."

"As you wish," Ron laughed, and he obeyed. Hermione's lips tasted like coming home.


	7. Out of Time

Written for the Hogwarts OTP War: (Scenario) Character A travels back in time for a reason involving Character B (here Hermione travels back to save Ron's life).

 _Word count:_ 791

 **Out of Time**

Ron's first impression of the woman who had just saved his life was that she was an angel. She was definitely the most gorgeous woman he had ever met, and she had a glow about her that was just magical.

In retrospect, that might have been the concussion talking.

She stayed with him until the ambulance arrived, the two of them alone but for the guy she had dispatched with moves faster than he had ever seen anyone pull—the guy who had pulled a knife on him and _tried to kill him_ , dear God, how was this his life?—who's still out cold on the alley's ground. Judging from the way he hit the ground, he's not about to get back up anytime soon, and Ron definitely doesn't feel any pity for that guy.

(or well, maybe a little—it did look very painful. But only a little, because that guy knocked Ron around a fair bit before his savior arrived)

He didn't see her until the hospital, after the doctors and nurses and officers who came to take his statement all leave him in his room alone. She seemed to literally blend out of a wall, and though she no longer glowed—thank God, because that was dizzying—she was still the most beautiful person he's ever laid eyes on.

"So, uh, thank you I guess?" Ron said quietly after a few moments of silence where he just drank in the sight of her. "Can I-I mean, may I have your name?" He tried to go for a charming smile, but considering his head was wrapped in gauze he was not quite sure how successful he was.

Apparently more than he thought he'd be, because the stranger's lips quirks up as she answers him. "I'm Hermione, and you're very welcome, Ron."

 _Hermione_ , he repeated in his head, savoring the way the syllables rolled on his tongue as he mouthed them. It suited her, he decided, before the fact that he didn't actually remember giving her his name registered.

"How do you know my name?"

"I know a lot of things," Hermione replied, a secretive glint in her eyes as she smirked. It was a nice kind of smirk too: not unkind or cruel, though it definitely was teasing. It unveiled just a bit of her teeth—just enough to show off how white they were, though her front teeth were slightly longer than the rest—and just like the rest of her, it looked perfect.

"Do you know why that guy was after me then?"

Hermione sighed, and from the knowing glint in her eyes it was clear she knew at least _something_ , which was already more than what Ron himself knew.

"Let's just say he didn't quite approve of some choices you were about to make," she finally replied.

"That doesn't make any sense," Ron protested, trying to sit up on the bed. "No one attacks people based on things they might do."

"Oh, Mr. Weasley, I assure you that they do," Hermione crooned.

It was then that he truly noticed: she wasn't just beautiful, she was also… Different. Other-worldly, perhaps, even though that wasn't quite the right word either. She looked to be… out of place, like she didn't quite fit in this here and now.

"You're not from around here, are you?" Ron asked, feeling a sudden flash of insight.

"No," Hermione agreed, "I'm really not." She looked conflicted, but she stepped closer to Ron. "I'm sorry," she said as she really took in the bandages. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

Ron rolled his eyes, and then promptly winced in pain as the gesture aggravated his headache. "What are you apologizing for? You saved my life."

"If I had done my job right, your life wouldn't have needed saving," she stated.

"Ah, but then I'd never have met you," Ron quipped, winking, and he was pleased to see her smile back, even if that smile didn't last long.

"I should go," Hermione said regretfully, though she didn't really make a move to do so.

"Will I see you again?" Ron asked, throat suddenly tight at the thought of never seeing this wonderful woman ever again.

"I-" Hermione hesitated, clearly torn. "Maybe."

"Well," Ron sighed, "I guess 'maybe' is always better than 'never', isn't it?"

To his surprise, Hermione smiled. "Yeah, it really is. I'll-I'll try to visit, okay?"

Ron smiled back, heart quivering in his chest. "I'd like that, I think."

"I'd like that too," Hermione replied. She smiled, and then something on her wrist beeped, then flashed, and finally she was gone, leaving only the faint smell of ozone behind her.

Ron blinked, voiceless. No one was ever going to believe this.


	8. Birth

Written for the Hogwarts' OTP War: (Dialogue) "Stop, you sound like a whale going through labor."

 _Word count:_ 639

 **Birth**

"Oh my god, Ron, would you please stop, you sound like a whale going through labor, and it's really not helping," Hermione said, annoyed.

"Well excuse me for trying to support you," Ron shot back, offended.

Hermione rolled her eyes and grit her teeth as another wave of pain hit. She breathed out slowly and with a shaky hand, pushed back the sweaty strand of hair that kept falling in front of her eyes.

"I'm giving birth, _Ronald_ , and you breathing as loudly as a very, very noisy cow right next to my ear isn't exactly helping me stay calm," Hermione replied bitingly, just before another contraction hit. "Oh my God, I hate you so much right now," she moaned, wishing she could just scream.

"I know, I know," Ron replied in hushed tones, coming closer until he was pressed up against her hospital bed. The grip she had on his hand had to be killing him, but he didn't even wince.

"Okay, I lied, I love you," she corrected quickly, looking deep into his eyes. Hermione loved Ron's eyes. They were, in her mind, his best feature. They could never truly hide anything he was feeling—for example, right now, they simply shone with love and support and admiration, and Hermione's heart felt like it could burst from all the love she felt for this wonderful man.

Giving birth as definitely the worst pain Hermione had ever been in—well, it was a toss-up between that and the Cruciatus, but right now she felt like giving birth was probably worse. Still, it was all worth it when they put the little screaming bundle in her arms.

"Aw, look at you," Hermione whispered, her eyes watering. She extended her index toward the grabbing fingers of her baby, and couldn't help but coo.

"It's ugly," Ron blurted from beside her, and Hermione laughed.

"That's your Daddy," she said with a wink. "He's a bit of an idiot sometimes, but don't worry, we love him anyway."

"Hey!" Ron protested, but it was half-hearted.

"Do you want to hold her?" Hermione finally asked. She honestly felt like she could spend forever looking into those little blue eyes, but her eyes were drooping and she was tired.

"Oh, are you sure I'm not too much of an idiot for that?" Ron teased even as he reached to carefully take their daughter from her arms.

"You'll be fine," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes. "You too, Rose, go with Daddy, you'll be just fine," she cooed again as she finally, and reluctantly, let go.

"Rose, huh? I like it," Ron said with a smile. And when he looked down at Rose, his smile just… It changed into something she hadn't quite seen before, something utterly magical and absolutely breathtaking.

"Well, I liked it, and I figured between Harry and your siblings, pretty much everyone we knew would get honored somehow. Our daughter deserves a new name, don't you think?"

"I agree," Ron replied, _that_ smile still on his lips. "So, what do you say, Rosie, ready to meet the family yet?" Rose just gargled in his arms, her little arms and legs flailing a little as Ron chuckled.

"I think that means 'yes'," Ron said playfully. He was oh so careful as he moved to open the door, and slowly the rest of the Weasleys trickled in until Hermione's room seemed to an overflowing sea of ginger.

"Everyone," Ron started, holding out Rose a little, "this is Rose, our daughter. Rosie," he continued, tucking her back against his chest and bopping her nose lightly, "this is everyone."

"Hi Rose"s echoed for the next few minutes, as well as congratulations and wishes of happiness, and that's how Hermione realized that she had never felt quite this happy before.

Merlin, she could get used to it.


	9. Of Coffee and White Knights

This was written for the Hogwarts' OTP War: (Scenario) Character A calls Character B over just to kill a spider.

 _Word count:_ 935

 **Of Coffee and White Knights**

Hermione's new neighbor had the reddest hair she had ever seen out of a commercial, and that was saying something. Coincidentally, he was also exactly the type of man she'd like to, well, do unspeakable things to.

It was such a shame he was gay, too, though that didn't stop Hermione from admiring him from afar. Or rather, from next door, since they were neighbors and sort of friendly around each other.

(the worst thing was that the boyfriend actually seemed very nice: he was painfully short, with messy black hair and the greenest eyes Hermione had ever seen, and he was the type of men who helped little old lady cross the street. Hermione knew it: she had seen him do it more than once)

And all this could have lasted forever, if it wasn't for the Sunday when Hermione heard a blood-curling scream echo from the wall she shared with Ron (aka Hot-Neighbor), followed by odd thumping noises and curses until finally someone started knocking on her door rather violently.

The sound was so jarring that Hermione actually jumped in fright in her seat and her heart skipped a beat. She wasn't sure what she had expected to find opening the door, but her half-naked neighbor certainly wasn't that.

He looked terrified: pale as a sheet and trembling, but apart from that he seemed to be mostly holding it together, only casting a few half-hateful, half-betrayed looks to his door, which stood wide open.

"Everything okay?" Hermione asked kindly when Ron didn't speak.

That seem to shake the man out of his daze, because his face cleared up a little and he smiled a little sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Ah, depends on your definition of 'okay', I guess?"

"I heard a scream," Hermione said, concerned. To her surprise, Ron only blushed.

"Ah, yes, that was me… You see, Ihavethisterriblephobiaofspidersandthere'soneinmylivingroomrightnowsopleasepleasecouldyoucomeandkillitforme?"

Hermione merely blinked. "I'm sorry, what was that again?"

"I, err, spider, in _my_ living-room, and I _hate_ spiders, I can't, they're just the worst, dear god, and I know this is going to sound weird and probably inappropriate, but could you please— _please_ —come and kill it for me?"

"You're afraid of spiders?" Hermione replied, bewildered. " _Why_?"

"Who cares why," Ron scoffed, sending another fearful look toward his apartment. "Just, could you please come now before it does something?"

"Alright, alright," Hermione replied, still feeling slightly bemused. She didn't exactly like spiders either, but she certainly wasn't afraid of them, and if they scared her neighbor so badly, well who was she to resist playing at being the white night for a day? "I'm coming."

"Thank you," Ron said fervently, and he guided her to the spider, always staying two steps behind her and cowering behind her back.

It wasn't even that big of a spider, Hermione noted to herself as she calmly disposed of it. Definitely not the worst one she'd seen, though she guessed to someone with a phobia, it would have probably seemed terrible.

"There, all done," Hermione finally said as she wiped the counter clean. "Your spider's dead and gone," she added teasingly, smiling at the way the words made Ron shiver even as he started to relax.

"Thank you," Ron breathed out. "No, seriously, _thank you_ ," he repeated when it looked like Hermione was going to interrupt. "Is there anything I can do to repay you?"

"Oh, that really isn't necessary," Hermione replied, blushing as she suddenly realized that she was standing _very closely_ to the half-naked man she had a crush on.

"I insist," Ron stated, his eyes borrowing into hers. "What about coffee? We could go out for coffee sometime, if you'd like?"

Hermione's heart skipped a beat before her eyes narrowed. "Like a date?"

"Err, if you want?" Ron replied, earlier confidence gone. "I mean, I'd like to?"

"Don't you have a boyfriend?" Hermione said accusingly.

Ron choked on his breath. "I'm sorry, what?"

"A boyfriend," Hermione repeated, rolling her eyes. "Green eyes, black hair, almost always at your place? You know, that guy. Because I refuse to be the 'other woman'."

"Oh, you mean _Harry_ ," Ron replied, eyes widening in understanding before he started to laugh. "He's not-I'm not… I mean, we're not… He's my brother," Ron finally blurted out. "Adopted. And he's dating my sister," he added, almost as an afterthought.

"So, you're not gay?" Hermione questioned, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in her stomach.

"I'm not gay," Ron confirmed, eyes full of mirth.

"Oh. _Oh_ ," Hermione gasped, mortified. "Well, I feel stupid now," she laughed. "And, err, if you don't think I've embarrassed myself too much for you to, you know, still want to see me, I'd love to get a coffee someday. Someday soon," she added.

Ron waved it off with a smile. "Please, you killed one of _those things_ for me. At this point, there's nothing you can do to convince me you're not perfect."

Hermione laughed again. "Well, don't be so sure of that."

Hermione was sure that Ron's invitation for coffee was meant to be taken as a 'we'll meet up some other time and go to an actual coffee shop', but somehow talking with him was so easy that she stayed in his apartment for hours and they ended up having coffee there.

"To my new hero," Ron toasted with a smirk, and Hermione laughed as she toasted him back, the coffee sloshing a little in the (very ugly) mug he had given her.

The coffee tasted terrible, but the company… Oh, the company tasted just right.


	10. Discussion

Written for the Hogwart's OTP War: (Dialogue) "It's not my fault your mom likes me better than she likes you.".

 _Word count:_ 394

 **Discussion**

"Come on, Ron, it's not my fault your mom likes me better than she likes you," Hermione said with an eyeroll when Ron complained for the nth time about how unfair it was that Hermione had been assigned the easy tasks while he had to do the boring stuff.

"Technically, Mum's favorite child is Harry," Ginny quipped from the bed she had collapsed into mere moments ago.

"But he's not even her child," Ron whined.

"Thanks, mate," Harry replied with a mock-wounded glare from over Ginny's head. "It's always so nice to see how much you appreciate me."

Ginny twisted her head a little and kissed him. "See," Harry added, "Ginny knows how to show her appreciation-Ow, ow, Gin', come on!" Harry protested, rubbing at the arm Ginny had just slapped.

"That's nothing you didn't deserve," Ron smirked. "Good job, Ginny," he said, and they shared a high-five as Harry and Hermione exchanged the understanding look of those in love with Weasleys. It was a mix of 'How did we end up here', 'please help' and 'I never want to leave'.

"Anyway," Hermione said, trying to get this disaster of a conversation somewhat back on track, "I'm pretty sure your mother doesn't have a favorite child. She just, uh-"

"-Loves us all differently?" Ron completed with a fond smile as he reached over to take her hand in his.

"Yeah, that," Hermione replied a little breathlessly as she stared into his eyes. Somewhere behind them, she could hear Ginny giggling.

"You guys are disgustingly sweet," Ginny said.

"Like you and Harry are any better," Hermione retorted without taking her eyes off of Ron.

"Well Harry and I are, for one, much better looking," Ginny teased, and Harry snorted rather inelegantly.

"Right," Ron drawled. "And you're not biased at all, I'm sure."

"Nope," Ginny replied, sticking out her tongue. "Not at all."

Their little break was interrupted by Molly shouting their names from the floor below, and they all groaned as they got up slowly.

"Well, back to work I guess," Hermione said with a shrug, lightly pecking Ron's lips as she moved past him.

"Joy," Ron replied with as much non-enthusiasm as he could. "This is going to be so much _fun_ , I can't wait," he continued just as dryly.

They were all still laughing when they reached the bottom of the stairs.


	11. and it burns beyond the grave

This was written for the Hogwarts' OTP War: Orpheus!AU.

 _Word count:_ 453

 **and it burns beyond the grave**

 _Don't look back, don't look back,_ Ron repeated to himself even as he forced himself to keep walking, to keep his eyes from wandering anywhere but right in front of him—and by the gods, how hard it was not to stray, not to sneak jus the one look to make sure his beloved Hermione was indeed following him, that he wasn't doing all this for nothing.

Hades had liked his music, Ron told himself as a distraction. _Hades had liked his music_ , had found it so beautiful even that he had granted Ron a boon: a chance to leave with the soul he had come to fetch, his beautiful Hermione, his wife whose life had been cut short so unfairly.

"Leave, and your wife will follow you. If—and I say _if_ —you can climb out of here on your own and without turning back, once you reach the light of day she will be saved. If you do turn back however, my doors will remain closed to you until the day you die, and your _beloved_ will stay with me," Hades had said calmly, his voice booming around his palace nonetheless.

(Styx, had he been smirking? He hadn't looked cruel, had he? Gods, how was Ron supposed to know if Hades looked cruel or not—all he knew about the god of Death came from the stories, and those weren't kind, but Hermione had taught him not to always trust blindly in what you heard or read)

(gods, how he missed her)

As he kept on walking, his legs straining as he struggled to remember for how long he had even been on this sinuous path, he was suddenly seized by a terrible doubt—by a terrible fear.

 _What if_ , his brain seemed to whisper at him, _what if Hades had lied, what if this was all a trick_.

Ron found himself considering the situation almost against his will. Would one look back really be so bad? He could be quick, he knew, so quick in fast he was rather sure no one would ever notice he had even turned around.

Just one quick look to be sure Hermione was following him. Surely it wouldn't be that bad, would it?

(would it?)

Ron felt like he was going mad. _Hermione_ , he told himself, _you're doing this for Hermione_. _For the woman who is worth a hundred, no, a thousand of you_.

Hermione wouldn't turn back, he knew. She was stronger than him—had always been stronger than him.

"For Hermione," he whispered to himself, and without turning back, he kept on walking.

For her, he would keep on walking forever, or until his heart broke.


	12. Of People, Tall and Small

This was written for the OTP War at Hogwarts: (Scenario) Write about the scenarios that come along with a large height difference and the Library Worker Day (write a story set in a library).

 _Word count:_ 569

 **Of People, Tall and Small**

"I'm so sorry to bother you, but could you, uh, could you grab me that book please?"

The voice that dragged Ron out of his (admittedly uncharacteristic) studious state was light and sweet, and it rang through the dusty air of the library Ron had settled in in the hopes of maybe finally understanding his geometry homework like clear bells.

In other words, it was the perfect distraction.

The girl who had spoken was positively tiny, and while she certainly wasn't the typical beauty, what with her frizzy, unruly hair and the metallic braces Ron could spy in her mouth, there was also a certain presence about her that made you notice her.

(or it could just be that geometry had totally fried his brain and he now thought any girl would be the prettiest thing in the world if it meant a five minutes break from whatever it was that he was meant to do)

"Excuse me," the girl said again, waving a hand in front of Ron's face. She was no longer smiling quite as widely, and was in fact starting to scowl irately a little. "Could you please help me get down that book?" she repeated, pointing at one of the larger history books two rows over from where Ron was sitting.

"Ah, sure," Ron replied, rushing to his feet awkwardly and hoping he wasn't blushing, that she hadn't caught him staring at her face. From hos unimpressed she looked, it seemed like those efforts might have been in vain.

It was easy for him to grab the book, though it was heavy, but from how high up it was, he could see how the girl would have had trouble getting it on her own.

"Well, there's your book," Ron said, handing it out to her.

"Thank you," the girl replied, hugging it to her chest as she kept staring into Ron's eyes. She didn't seem to be about to move, and to be completely fair, Ron wasn't sure he was in such a hurry to either.

Something seemed to pass between them—something electric—before the girl cast down her eyes and bit her lips, breaking the connection. Ron felt oddly bereft at having it gone.

"Well, thank you again," the girl repeated, her voice unfairly even. "If there's anything I can help you with in return for your help…"

"I think I'll be fine," Ron smiled, before berating himself when the girl simply nodded and turned to walk away. "Actually," Ron said, feeling oddly inspired, "there might be something you can help me with," he added, crossing his fingers behind his back.

"Oh?" she asked curiously.

"Yes," Ron replied, projecting a bravery he wasn't quite feeling. "Are you, by any chance, any good at geometry? Because I'm terrible at it, and at this point I'll take any help I can get."

The girl laughed, and this time when she smiled it looked like the sunrise. "Well in that case you're in luck, Mr.?"

"Weasley, "Ron replied promptly. "Ron Weasley. But you can just call me Ron."

"Hermione Granger," the girl replied. "And you're in luck, Ron. I happen to be _very good_ at geometry," she added with a wink.

"Oh thank god," Ron breathed out fervently, and as he followed Hermione back to his table and his dreaded homework, he felt lighter than he had in a long time.


	13. Under The Apple Tree

Written for the Hogwarts' OTP War: (Quotation) "Intead, [the wind] brought the scent of a perfume he knew well, and the touch of a kiss, a kiss that came from far away, slowly, slowly, until it rested on his lips." -The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho and the Garden Day (write a story set in a garden).

 _Word count:_ 489

 **Under The Apple Tree**

There was little Ron enjoyed more than kissing Hermione. Spending time with his friends and family was one of those things, though it barely counted, seeing as Hermione was both his wife and one of his best friends, and Quidditch was another, sort of, if only because it was _Quidditch_ , and Quidditch was amazing.

(he knew better, of course, than to voice to Hermione the fact that Quidditch, a sport she still could barely stand, and herself, his wife, were so close in his affections, though he was rather sure she knew anyway)

But still, the rare quiet moments he got to spend alone with Hermione—with his wife, and dear Merlin he prayed that this would never stop being quite so thrilling to think—are always some of his favorites.

Like right now: they were visiting his parents and were escaping his mother's relentless questions of children and parenthood by taking a stroll through the garden he had spent his childhood roaming, and though it was a beautiful day, Ron's eyes always found themselves drawn to Hermione rather than the magical picture of the nature that surrounded them.

They settled in under the old apple tree eventually, Ron's back against the rough bark and Hermione's head tucked under his chin as she leaned against him.

"You know," she said softly with smile in her voice he couldn't see, "it's really lucky I'm not allergic to pollen, because otherwise this would be like the worst spot."

Ron laughed and pressed a kiss against her hair. "I'm sure there'd be a spell for that even if you were though," he counters lightly.

"You're probably right," Hermione hummed softly.

"Please, I'm always right."

"Of course, my apologies, I had forgotten about _that_ ," Hermione teased.

"Apology accepted," Ron replied gallantly, nodding his head a little. "See that you don't forget it again," he added, twisting his head so she could see him wink.

Hermione laughed softly for a while, before sighing and burrowing herself deeper against his side. She was warm and pliant in his arms, and Ron didn't think he had ever held anything that was so _right_.

They stayed like this in peaceful silence for a long time, the only sounds breaching through their bubble of quiet being that of their own breathing, the wind or the occasional bird chirping.

With her head pressed against his neck like it was, all Ron had to do was turn his own head just a little and his nose was buried in her thick hair. It smelled like her shampoo and that indescribable smell that was purely Hermione, and Ron didn't think he would ever be able to get enough of it.

"I love you," Ron murmured against her hair.

"I love you too," Hermione voiced back against his skin, pressing a soft kiss on the side of his neck, and Ron smiled.

This was truly a perfect day.


	14. From The Attic

Written for Hogwarts' OTP War: (object) heirloom ring and the Auctioneers Day: write a story about an old item.

 _Word count:_ 421

 **From The Attic**

When they're five, Ron meets Hermione in the park, and he hates her instantly. The girl is a tattletale, who tells on Ron when he pushes his little sister Ginny in the sandpit because Ginny had been _mean_ and had tried to steal Harry, Ron's very best friend, away from him.

(of course, today everyone laughs at that story, and how ludicrous it sounds: Ron and Hermione, being anything but the couple they are today? unbelievable)

What didn't help was when they found themselves in the same class, and worse than that, sitting next to each other. And they might very well never have become friends, if it wasn't for the fact that two weeks later, bullies stole Hermione's book and refused to give it back.

What happens then is this: Harry sees someone in distress and rushes to help, jumping over the back of the bully in a choke-hold that would have been effective had he only been bigger or stronger. Ron, never one to be outdone, jumps right after him and in the end the two boys have collected a series a bruises and scraps, but they've gotten Hermione's book back and beaten the bullies, and to them that's all that matters.

But it isn't until Hermione stands up to their teacher and tells the woman that the boy who had told on them had been the bullies and that Ron and Harry had just been trying to help her, that 'Ron and Harry' become 'Ron, Harry and Hermione', that the duo becomes an inseparable trio.

Hermione's grandmother's dies the summer before she turns ten, and for some reason Hermione inherits all of her things. They get stored up in the attic, trunks upon trunks of old clothes and tarnished jewelry that smell of age and rusted metal, and of course the attic immediately becomes the children's favorite hiding place.

That's where Ron finds the ring. It's old, clunky and honestly, to him it's kind of ugly, what with it's tarnished silver and the somewhat cracked blue stone on top of it, but the moment Hermione sees it she gasps and cradles it in her hands like it's something infinitely precious.

Which it is, at least to her, being his great-great-something-grandmother's wedding ring.

"She always said it could be mine one day," Hermione confesses that day, and her eyes are sparkling with a mix of grief and fondness, and in that moment Ron knows that he'll marry her one day.

God, he is so screwed.


	15. Being Parents

Written for the Hogwarts' TP War: (dialogue) "Why are you so embarrassing?" / "Stop holding my hand then." / "No.".

 _Word count:_ 481

 **Being Parents**

"Ugh, dad, why are you so embarrassing?" Rose said, squirming a little as her father give her mother that loopy smile that always looked ridiculous as she explained yet another muggle contraption to him.

"Stop holding my hand then," Ron replied with a smirk, though he didn't let go of Rose's hand.

"No," Rose pouted, tightening her grip on her father's hand. With her other hand, she held onto her mother, who chuckled a little at the sight.

"She definitely takes after you," Hermione said, smiling fondly at her husband. "Very impatient, that one," she added with a smirk that only widened when Rose turned her pout toward her.

"Yes, she definitely gets that one from me," Ron replied, rolling his eyes a little and winking at Rose, who giggled and made the hushing noise she always did when her father wanted them to share a secret and keep it from her mother.

Hermione wasn't fooled—she never was (probably because Rose was never actually discreet by any definition of that term)—but she pretended to be anyway.

"Next time," Rose said confidently, "I want to ride on your shoulders, Dad. It's not fair that Hugo always gets to be up there while I have to walk."

"Dear Merlin, she's already arguing for her points," Ron moaned playfully, casting a look of mock-blame toward his wife. "Look at what you've done to my baby girl," he accused, while Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

"Don't mind him, Rose, you've done very well," Hermione complimented with a proud smile, ruffling her daughter's hair when the girl smiled up at her.

"Really?"

"Really," Hermione confirmed. "In fact, I think that next time you should get to ride on your Daddy's shoulders, right Ron?" She sent a look so feel of meaning that Ron couldn't quite hide his shiver as he acquiesced.

"You women are going to be the death of me," Ron grumbled, but his tone was fond. "I can't wait until you grow up a little more," he added to Hugo who was drowsing off while playing with his hair, "it'll be nice to finally have some support around here."

Hugo just yanked on a strand of Ron's hair painfully, making him wince and the girls laugh.

"Right, laugh it up, why don't you," Ron muttered in mock-protest. "See if I care."

"Alright," Rose replied as she started laughing, which inevitably made Hermione start laughing too.

"Betrayed, I've been betrayed," Ron bemoaned at his son.

Of course, Hugo chose that moment to start talking. "Mama," he screamed, clapping his hands together. "Mama!"

Obviously, that only made Hermione laugh more, until even Ron himself couldn't help but join in the hilarity.

"I love you," Ron finally said once they calmed down.

"Love you too," Hermione replied, leaning in for a soft kiss.

"Ugh, Daddy, not _again_!" Rose complained, and Ron smiled.


End file.
